Favorite Sin
by only-because3
Summary: She thinks that’s why she does what she does next. Or at least she’ll say that if this is ever to get out. Plus, she can say that she was feeling fat because she was and that he had gotten her drunk off wine coolers even though she’s not even buzzed .


So, I totally decided that finishing this up tonight wasway more important than my editorial for English, which means I'm going to be up late tonight but look! A new smutty Quick fic! I'm not super pleased with it, just because it does describe the night they slept together and first times can be a hassle to write. I hope I did it well though. Enjoy!

* * *

A lot of people assume they're not close. They just think that they hang around one another and don't talk since she's dating his best friend and she's on the Cheerios and he's on the football team. Sure, that's how it always was for a while, but you can't not get to know someone when you're with them for the bulk of the day.

So, when Finn goes out of town with his mom to visit his grandma, it's really not that weird for them to hang out.

However, on that particular day, they should have known that hanging out wasn't going to be a good idea.

For one, it was a million degrees out and both of them had mid summer practice to keep them in shape for the upcoming season in the fall.

Puck was pissed off because he seemed to be the only on left this summer who actually didn't suck at football.

Quinn nearly had a break down when some of the Cheerios mentioned she was getting harder to lift. They were just weak, she had concluded. Sure, she'd put on a pound or two but if they couldn't manage that then they were sure to screw up at Nationals which made her even more upset.

So when practice ended under the blaring sun, they both walked to the parking lot, grumbling to one another about how shitty today was. Her dad was supposed to pick her up since her car was in the shop, but she'd gotten a text while she was changing that he was caught up in a meeting and to hold tight.

She tells Puck this and instead of leaving her there, he asks if she wants a ride home. She accepts without hesitation.

They ride in relative silence for a while before she says she doesn't want to go home. "We could hang out at my house," he offers, mentioning that his mom's at work so they could blast the AC without her knowing. She says okay and sends a text to her parents.

She has a level head on her shoulders so her parents don't object, just tell her to be home before curfew.

He lives near the outskirts of Lima on a bunch of land that was left to his mom by his grandpa. "That's really the only thing we've got going for us," he mentions and she nods absently.

It's kinda of cool she decides when they get there. There is a decent size above ground pool behind the house and an old farm further back. It's red with white borders and it reminds her of all the barns she used to see in books when she was little. The kind of barn she always wanted to have before her parents told her that they were better than that and why not have a Barbie Dreamhouse instead. "What's in the barn," she asks as she shuts the door behind her, forehead already forming beads of sweat.

He shrugs. "We just use it for storage." He could go on to tell her that when this was still his grandpa's, he used to spend the night in the barn on the lift so that when his grandpa woke up early to milk the cows, he could help. But he doesn't because he doubts she'll care.

They walk into the house which is thankfully already a few degrees cooler than it is outside.

She drops her bag next to the door while Puck disappears down the hallway. She sits down ladylike on the couch, not because she feels awkward lounging in his house, but because that's how she always sits.

He makes fun of her for it when he reappears in the living room. She rolls her eyes and leans further into the couch as he turns on the TV. "Mi casa es su casa," he tells her in broken Spanish and she raises an eyebrow. Was she the only one who paid attention in that class?

He flips through a couple of channels before settling on ESPN. She groans and stands up, making her way to the kitchen. She digs through the numerous leftovers in the refrigerator, her eyes widening when she sees lasagna in the very back.

"When'd you guys have lasagna," she asks, taking out the plat and peeling back the saran wrap.

He hesitates, thinking back for a moment before answering, "Sunday."

It's Tuesday which means the corner piece on this place is about to be hers. "Do you want anything?" She may have just raided his fridge without word but Quinn Fabray never forgets her manners.

He asks for the last piece of lasagna and then gets up to joining her in the kitchen while the food heats up. She leans against the counter next to the microwave in her Cheerios uniform and he looks into the fridge, pulling out two fruit punch wine coolers while trying to ignore her legs. He opens the bottles as the microwave dings, the two of them heading back into the living room soon afterwards. Plate and forks in her hands, drinks in his.

He hates wine coolers and he tells her this. She shrugs. They're the only alcoholic beverage she's ever had so she has nothing to judge it against. "Plus, the fruit taste is really good," she adds, mentioning that when she first had one she though it was just punch.

He laughs because he remembers this. They, her, Finn, and him, had been at some dance in the 8th grade and their friend Jason had stolen some from his older sister's stash. Finn didn't take more that two sips and Jason had been caught with his and thrown out. Puck only finished his because he was a "man" and it was booze. Quinn however finished off both her's and Finn's. When they told her afterwards that they contained alcohol, she freaked out. A few days later though, she told Finn that even though she was sure it was some sort of sin, she liked the drinks anyway.

"You know," she says at random, taking a bite of lasagna before continuing. "My parents don't remember Finn. We've all gone to school together since the 4th grade and they still think I met him this year." She shrugs as if it's no big deal but he knows that it is (even if he shouldn't know things like that about her).

Quinn's older sister always got most of the attention. Not to say that Quinn was ignored, it just seemed to be harder for her parents to remember details about her. But now Quinn's sister has gone off to college and this could be a fresh start for Quinn and her parents.

He changes the subject by asking her what she wants to do. He feels like he's boring her with the football he's watching and his lack of great conversational skills. She finishes off her slice of lasagna and wine cooler before leaning back into the couch.

She asks if the pool is clean enough to swim in.

He raises an eyebrow as he nods.

* * *

She jumps in first. She's in the dirty shirt and shorts she had worn during the first half of practice, before they took their pictures for the upcoming season, and it makes her cringe a little. Puck watches from the ladder, dressed in his black board shorts and waits for her to break through the surface. Her blonde hair that is usually in a perfect ponytail is now fanned around her in the water. Small strands stick to her face when she comes up for air until she pushes her hair back. "Are you gonna get in or just watch me like a perv," she asks him, smiling and giggling, and Jesus, he really doesn't understand why Finn isn't as into her as she is to him.

He steps in slowly, the water feeling like ice against his hot body. He tenses up, the water going halfway up his stomach. He keeps his arms out of the water and its then that he notices her look of disapproval. "What?"

She doesn't say anything, instead goes underwater, coming up with a splash when she reaches him. "The water feels incredible, enjoy it." She splashes him again and again and again until he grabs her wrists.

"Cut it out," he tells her, looking down at her face which has formed into a pout.

"Swim with me Noah. Stop trying to act like you're better than the pool," she says and he rolls his eyes. But then he takes her by surprise and quickly lets go of her wrists, picks her up by her waist, and throws them both into the water.

After that, neither is really sure what happened. They splash around for a bit but then suddenly they're close, closer than they should be and they both realize it. So, they take a few steps back, both ignoring the fact that he has to take his hands off her hips and she has to take her hands off his chest when they pull apart.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, he asks if she wants to go back inside.

She nods.

* * *

She busies herself in the kitchen while Puck changes his clothes. She cleans up their mess from before and decides to just wash all the dishes in the sink. She's freezing now. She's still in her wet clothes and the AC is still on full blast. The hairs on her arms stand up and she shifts her weight from side to side in an effort to warm her up.

"You didn't have to do the dishes," he tells her when he walks into the kitchen, going over to the fridge and grabbing two more wine coolers. She shrugs, because it's really not that big of a deal, and washes off one of her hands to accept the wine cooler from his extended hand. He offers to help but shakes her head, instead telling him to just keep her company until she's finished. He hops on to the counter next to her and starts talking about random things. They talk about school and the god-awful town they live in and how there is never anything good on TV anymore. They keep talking and talking, even after she's finished the dishes because it's comfortable. Just talking to one another is easy and fun and almost feels needed.

"You should probably go change," he tells her once he notices just how cold she is based on her chest.

He clears his throat and looks away, not because it's polite, but because she's dating his best friend and she's off limits.

She agrees with him and finishes off her drink before making her way to his room.

* * *

She only realizes when she gets into his room that all she can change into is her Cheerio uniform. She sighs. She loves cheering, she really does, but sometimes it feels like she lives in her uniform.

As she slips back into her underwear (she still can't believe she actually got into the pool with Puck sans any form of undergarments), she looks around the decent sized room. There are the usual teenage posters on the walls, ones of football players and scantily clad ladies (which she _totally_ doesn't compare herself to for a good two minutes). Around his desk, which she's sure he hardly ever uses, there are pictures from football games at school and a few of his family. She laughs lightly when she spots an old picture, one in which Puck has all his hair. He looks weird that way; the Mohawk definitely makes him look older and hotter.

She stands up straight. Did she just describe him as hot?

She shakes her head and slips into her cheerleading skirt which she, unfortunately, notices has gotten a bit snug. She sighs and puts on her top when she hears a knock on the door. "You okay in there," he asks. She'd been in there a while and he was slightly worried that she could've had some sort of delayed heat stroke.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answers, opening the door. "Could you zip up the rest of my top though?"

She turns around in front of him, showing him her half exposed back. He grabs the zipper and pulls it up, surprised to find that his hands are shaking.

What the hell? He was Noah fucking Puckerman; he does notget nervous around girls.

"Do I look any different to you," she asks when she turns around and he raises an eyebrow in question. She shrugs slightly and then waves her hands in the air. "Never mind. It's just me being a girl."

She walks back into the room, gathering up her things when he simply says, "You look gorgeous." Pretty, beautiful, hot, all things she's been called before. Gorgeous, never.

She thinks that's why she does what she does next. Or at least she'll say that if this is ever to get out. Plus, she can say that she was feeling fat (because she was) and that he had gotten her drunk off wine coolers (even though she's not even buzzed).

Her hands are on the sides of his face, her lips molding to his. He stays still for only a second, because after all this is Finn's girlfriend, but then the thought of Finn goes out the window and his hands find her hips, kissing her back with force. She is a _damn_ good kisser if he says so himself, and it's probably because it's really the only thing she can do without ruining her Christian morals.

He pulls her closer to him, directly up against his body and she wraps her arms around his neck, tongue gliding across his bottom lip. Never in a million years would he have thought he would ever get to kiss Quinn Fabray, let alone with tongue.

He's so hesitant with everything because she is super Christian. Finn's told him about how sometimes when they make out and he'll try to cope a feel, and she'll stop and say they should _pray_. Noah Puckerman does not stop making out with a girl to _pray_. But suddenly she sways her hips from side to side and her shirt rides up, his thumbs touching her cool tanned skin. He can feel her smile against his lips so he slowly moves is hands north, skin touching skin until he realizes that her damn Cheerio top is bunching up in such an awkward way that he needs to get rid of it.

His hands go to the zipper that hangs at the nape of her neck and he pulls it down inch by inch and is honestly surprised when she doesn't stop him and instead pulls away so that she can take it off completely.

She has no idea why she's doing this. All she knows is that she's not feeling guilty and she is actually loving this. So when she feels Puck's hand hovers over her bra strap, she takes her lips off his and whispers, "Just take it off already," before her hands move to his jeans.

This doesn't make any sense in her head. Somewhere in the back of her head, she knows this is wrong because she's a good Christian girl and she's dating Finn. Her brain is actually telling her top stop. To just pull away, put her top back on, go home, and pray.

But Puck's hand is now unzipping her skirt and her mind begins to tell her something completely different.

_Get out of your skirt as fast as possible_.

She wiggles her hips as her fingers undo his belt, his pants immediately sagging as her skirt hit's the floor.

She's starting to enter unfamiliar territory. She's never done any of _this_ before and she knows that he's done this probably a million times before with a bunch of different girls. She hesitates then, as he takes off his jeans. She stands there in just her bra and panties, suddenly self-conscious again. Not only was she worried about how she looked but also that she was about to make a complete and utter fool of herself when it comes down to it (because she's already decided that there is no stopping this).

She needs to kiss him again, just so she can stop thinking so damn much.

Their lips reconnect and somehow they end up on his bed. She's practically pinned underneath him, something she thinks she's way too okay with, and his hands are roaming everywhere. She moves with them, her back arching as his hands touch her chest, pulling down the cup of her bra. His lips leave hers, slowly making their way down her body. He leaves kisses in a trail along her neck and along her collarbone until he reaches her chest. He stops there and somehow gets her bra off, lips enclosing around her nipple as soon as the fabric is gone. She gasps lightly and he thinks for a second that her back might break she's arching into him so much. Her hand goes to his head, fingers embedding in the short hair of his Mohawk, her legs desperately trying to cross so she can relieve the ache between her legs.

He feels her legs try to move around him and instead of complying with her and moving, he brings his leg up, pressing his knee right _there._ Her nails dig into his scalp as "Noah," falls from her lips like a prayer to god. He smirks against her chest and starts moving his knee in small circles, which causes the girl beneath him to release all sorts of delicious sounds. His hand creeps between them, slipping underneath her cotton panties. His fingers slide between her folds and he lifts his head to look up at her face when he slides the first finger in. Her face contorts, hips moving from side to side. She bites her bottom lip, edges of her mouth curling up into a grin that she looks like she's trying to fight off.

He moves his finger in and out slowly; he's being unusually careful with her and that's because he knows what this is for her. This is her first time and he already knows in the back of his head that she's going to regret this (she's much too religious not to). She's getting wetter and wetter and he gently adds a second finger, a moan escaping her parted lips. Her face changes slightly again, her whole body adjusting to the feeling before she pushes against his hand.

He moves his mouth back to hers, forcing her to drop her grasp on her lower lip. He smiles against her aching lips every time little gasps escape her. He moves his hand faster (not too fast because he's honestly afraid of hurting her) and suddenly her whole body is moving underneath him, her nails running up and down his back as she pulls away from him and whispers, "I want you."

After that, it gets sort of clumsy. She finagles her way out of her underwear as he reaches over into his bedside table. When she sees the foil package as she's tossing her panties to the ground she swallows hard because "suddenly" this is happening. She watches as he slips out of his boxers and then opens the small foil package. She really wishes this part didn't have to happen. That they didn't have to pull away and that she didn't have to sit there with nothing to do while he did… that.

She looks away because she doesn't want him to realize that she's been staring at his junk for the past minute.

"Are you sure about this?" He hates himself for asking her this because it's so fucking cliché (and it makes him sound like he cares) but he has to. He's known her too long to let this happen if she isn't ready.

She doesn't answer him verbally and instead wraps her hand around his neck, pulling him down to her lips. Her legs spread unconsciously and he pauses only for a second before he delves into her. Her lips stop moving and her nails claw into his neck. He stays still within her until he feels her relax beneath him. She pulls away from his lips and lets out a shaky breath. She closes her eyes and swallows once more before looking him straight in the eyes. She silently nods and he pulls out slightly before going back in slowly. He repeats this a few times before he feels her legs tighten around him, urging him to go deeper. He complies with her and they eventually find a steady rhythm.

She's making so many beautiful sounds and she's so unbelievably tight around him that he's not sure how much longer this is going to last. He looks down at her as she moans, her eyes hidden beneath her eyelids, her lips red and sore from all they're kissing. She's smiling, gnawing on her bottom lip when she's not releasing moans and she looks so god damn beautiful even though she doesn't have any sort of make up on.

He suddenly wishes she were his.

"Noah," she says desperately and her legs wrap around his waist tightly. He moves faster then and suddenly, just like that it's over. His arms weaken and he falls so that he's lying on top of her but not crushing her with his weight. His head rests in the crook of her neck, hot breath making her sweaty skin hotter.

She lays motionless beneath him, though her chest rises and falls quickly as she tries to find some sort of normal breathing pace. When they both seem to have regained composure, he rolls off her and she lays awkwardly in the bed next to him. Her gold cross lies against her chest, the chain tangled in her messy blonde hair that's spread wildly across his pillow.

She's a sinner.

(It felt pretty good to sin though.)

After a few more minutes of silence, she asks him to take her home. He nods and they both get up at the same time to gather their clothes. She takes hers and goes to the bathroom because she doesn't think she can look at him right now.

He's waiting for her in the living room when she comes out, looking like the perfect Cheerio she always looks like, ponytail and all.

The ride to her house is silent and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs.

When he pulls up in front of her house, she looks at herself in the side view mirror. She makes sure her ponytail is perfect and that her cross is proudly displayed. She climbs out and stands with the door open and it's then that she dares to look at him. She tries not to smile when she tells him not to tell anyone.


End file.
